Chapter VII: Part 7

[_Slashing about him._] Slay, slay without mercy! King Skule has a
son! Slay, slay!

[_The fighting gradually passes away to the left._

GREGORIUS JONSSON.

The Vargbælgs are hewing their way through!

DAGFINN.

Ay, but only to flee.

GREGORIUS JONSSON.

Yes, by Heaven,—the other gate stands open; they are fleeing
already!

DAGFINN.

Up towards Martestokke. [_Calls out._] After them, after them, Earl
Knut! Take vengeance for the slaughter at Låka!

HÅKON.

You heard it: he proclaimed my child an outlaw—my innocent child,
Norway’s chosen king after me!

THE KING’S MEN.

Ay, ay, we heard it!

HÅKON.

And what is the punishment for such a crime?

THE MEN.

Death!

HÅKON.

Then must he die! [_Raises his hand to make oath._] Here I swear it:
Skule Bårdsson shall die, wherever he be met on unconsecrated
ground!

DAGFINN.

’Tis every true man’s duty to slay him.

A BIRCHLEG.

[_From the left._] Duke Skule has taken to flight!

THE TOWNSFOLK.

The Birchlegs have conquered!

HÅKON.

What way?

THE BIRCHLEG.

Past Martestokke, up towards Eidsvold; most of them had horses
waiting up in the streets, else had not one escaped with his life.

HÅKON.

Thanks be to God that has helped us yet again! Now may the Queen
safely come ashore from the fleet.

GREGORIUS JONSSON.

[_Points off to the right._] She has already landed, my lord; there
she comes!

HÅKON.

[_To those nearest him._] The heaviest task is yet before me; she is
a loving daughter;—listen—no word to her of the danger that
threatens her child. Swear to me, one and all, to keep ward over
your King’s son; but let her know nothing.

THE MEN.

[_Softly._] We swear it.

MARGRETE.

[_Enters, with ladies and attendants, from the right._] Håkon, my
husband! Heaven has shielded you; you have conquered and are unhurt!

HÅKON.

Yes, I have conquered. Where is the child?

MARGRETE.

On board the King’s ship, in the hands of trusty men.

HÅKON.

Go more of you thither.

[_Some of the men go._

MARGRETE.

Håkon, where is—Duke Skule?

HÅKON.

He has made for the Uplands.

MARGRETE.

He lives, then!—My husband, may I thank God that he lives?

HÅKON.

[_In painful agitation._] Hear me, Margrete: you have been a
faithful wife to me, you have followed me through good hap and ill,
you have been unspeakably rich in love;—now must I cause you a heavy
sorrow; I am loath to do it; but I am King, therefore must I——

MARGRETE.

[_In suspense._] Has it to do with—the Duke?

HÅKON.

Yes. No bitterer lot could befall me than to live my life far from
you; but if you think it must be so after what I now tell you—if you
feel that you can no longer sit by my side, no longer look at me
without turning pale—well, we must even part—live each alone—and I
shall not blame you for it.

MARGRETE.

Part from you! How can you think such a thought? Give me your
hand——!

HÅKON.

Touch it not!—It has even now been lifted in oath——

MARGRETE.

In oath?

HÅKON.

An oath that set its sacred seal upon a death-warrant.

MARGRETE.

[_With a shriek._] My father! Oh, my father!

[_Totters; two women rush forward to support her._

HÅKON.

Yes, Margrete—his King has doomed your father to death.

MARGRETE.

Then well I know he has committed a greater crime than when he took
the kingly title.

HÅKON.

That has he;—and now, if you feel that we must part, so let it be.

MARGRETE.

[_Coming close to him, firmly._] We can never part! I am your wife,
nought else in the world but your wife!

HÅKON.

Are you strong enough? Did you hear and understand all? I have
doomed your father.

MARGRETE.

I heard and understood. You have doomed my father.

HÅKON.

And you ask not to know what was his crime?

MARGRETE.

’Tis enough that you know it.

HÅKON.

But it was to death that I doomed him!

MARGRETE.

[_Kneels before the_ KING, _and kisses his hand_.] My husband and
noble lord, your doom is just!

ACT FIFTH.

_A room in the palace at Nidaros. The entrance door is on the right;
in front, on the same side, a window; to the left a smaller
door. It is after night-fall._ PAUL FLIDA, BÅRD BRATTE, _and
several of_ KING SKULE’S _principal followers are standing at
the window and looking upward_.

A MAN-AT-ARMS.

How red it glows!

A SECOND.

It stretches over half the sky, like a flaming sword.

BÅRD BRATTE.

Holy King Olaf, what bodes such a sign of dread?

AN OLD VÅRBÆLG.

Assuredly it bodes a great chief’s death.

PAUL FLIDA.

Håkon’s death, my good Vårbælgs. He is lying out in the fiord with
his fleet; we may look for him in the town to-night. This time, ’tis
our turn to conquer!

BÅRD BRATTE.

Trust not to that; there is little heart in the host now.

THE OLD VÅRBÆLG.

And reason enough, in sooth; ever since the flight from Oslo has
King Skule shut himself in, and will neither see nor speak with his
men.

THE FIRST MAN-AT-ARMS.

There are those in the town who know not whether to believe him
alive or dead.

PAUL FLIDA.

The King must out, however sick he may be. Speak to him, Bård
Bratte—the safety of all is at stake.

BÅRD BRATTE.

It avails not; I have spoken to him already.

PAUL FLIDA.

Then must I try what I can do. [_Goes to the door on the left, and
knocks._] My lord King, you must take the helm in your own hands;
things can no longer go on in this fashion.

KING SKULE.

[_Within._] I am sick, Paul Flida.

PAUL FLIDA.

What else can you look for? You have eaten nought these two days;
you must nourish and strengthen you——

KING SKULE.

I am sick.

PAUL FLIDA.

By the Almighty, ’tis no time for sickness. King Håkon lies out in
the fiord, and may at any time be upon us here in Nidaros.

KING SKULE.

Strike him down for me! Slay him and the King-child.

PAUL FLIDA.

You must be with us, my lord!

KING SKULE.

No, no, no,—you are surest of fortune and victory when I am not
there.

PETER.

[_Enters from the right; he is in armour._] The townsfolk are ill at
ease; they flock together in great masses before the palace.

BÅRD BRATTE.

Unless the King speak to them, they will desert him in the hour of
need.

PETER.

Then must he speak to them. [_At the door on the left._] Father! The
Trönders, your trustiest subjects, will fall away from you if you
give them not courage.

KING SKULE.

What said the skald?

PETER.

The skald?

KING SKULE.

The skald who died for my sake at Oslo. A man cannot give what he
himself does not possess, he said.

PETER.

Then neither can you give away the kingdom; for it is mine after
you!

KING SKULE.

Now I will come!

PAUL FLIDA.

God be praised!

KING SKULE.

[_Comes forward in the doorway; he is pale and haggard; his hair has
grown very grey._] You shall not look at me! I will not have you
look at me now that I am sick! [_Goes up to_ PETER.] Take from you
the kingdom, you say? Great God in heaven, what was I about to do!

PETER.

Oh, forgive me;—I know that what you do is ever the right.

KING SKULE.

No, no, not hitherto; but now I will be strong and sound—I will act!

LOUD SHOUTS.

[_Without, on the right._] King Skule! King Skule!

KING SKULE.

What is that?

BÅRD BRATTE.

[_At the window._] The townsmen are flocking together; the whole
courtyard is full of people;—you must speak to them.

KING SKULE.

Do I look like a king? Can I speak now?

PETER.

You must, my noble father!

KING SKULE.

Well, be it so. [_Goes to the window and draws the curtain aside,
but lets it go quickly and starts back in terror._] There hangs the
flaming sword over me again!

PAUL FLIDA.

It bodes that the sword of victory is drawn for you.

KING SKULE.

Ah, were it but so! [_Goes to the window and speaks out._] Trönders,
what would you? Here stands your King.

A TOWNSMAN.

[_Without._] Leave the town! The Birchlegs will burn and slay if
they find you here.

KING SKULE.

We must all hold together. I have been a gracious King to you; I
have craved but small war-tax——

A MAN’S VOICE.

[_Down in the crowd._] What call you all the blood, then, that
flowed at Låka and Oslo?

A WOMAN.

Give me my betrothed again!

A BOY.

Give me my father and my brother!

ANOTHER WOMAN.

Give me my three sons, King Skule!

A MAN.

He is no King; homage has not been done him on St. Olaf’s shrine!

MANY VOICES.

No, no—no homage has been done him on St. Olaf’s shrine! He is no
king!

KING SKULE.

[_Shrinks behind the curtain._] No homage——! No king!

PAUL FLIDA.

’Twas a dire mischance that the shrine was not brought forth when
you were chosen.

BÅRD BRATTE.

Should the townsfolk desert us, we cannot hold Nidaros if the
Birchlegs come.

KING SKULE.

And they will desert us, so long as homage has not been done to me
on the Saint’s shrine.

PETER.

Then let the shrine be brought forth, and take our homage now!

PAUL FLIDA.

[_Shaking his head._] How should that be possible?

PETER.

Is aught impossible, where _he_ is concerned? Sound the call for the
folkmote, and bring forth the shrine!

SEVERAL OF THE MEN.

[_Shrinking back._] Sacrilege!

PETER.

No sacrilege!—Come, come! The monks are well disposed towards King
Skule; they will agree——

PAUL FLIDA.

That will they not; they dare not, for the Archbishop.

PETER.

Are you King’s men, and will not lend your aid when so great a cause
is at stake! Good, there are others below of better will. My father
and King, the monks _shall_ give way; I will pray, I will beseech;
sound the summons for the folkmote; you shall bear your kingship
rightfully.

[_Rushes out to the right._

KING SKULE.

[_Beaming with joy._] Saw you him! Saw you my gallant son! How his
eyes shone! Yes, we will all fight and conquer. How strong are the
Birchlegs?

PAUL FLIDA.

Not stronger than that we may master them, if but the townsfolk hold
to us.

KING SKULE.

They _shall_ hold to us. We must all be at one now and put an end to
this time of dread. See you not that ’tis Heaven’s command that we
should end it? Heaven is wroth with all Norway for the deeds that
have so long been doing. A flaming sword glows night by night in the
sky; women swoon and bear children in the churches; a frenzy creeps
abroad among priests and monks, causing them to run through the
streets and proclaim that the last day is come. Ay, by the Almighty,
this shall be ended at one stroke!

PAUL FLIDA.

What are your commands?

KING SKULE.

All the bridges shall be broken down!

PAUL FLIDA.

Go, and let all the bridges be broken.

[_One of the Men-at-arms goes out to the right._

KING SKULE.

Gather all our men upon the foreshore; not one Birchleg shall set
foot in Nidaros.

PAUL FLIDA.

Well spoken, King.

KING SKULE.

When the shrine is borne forth, let the horn sound to the folkmote.
The host and the townsfolk shall be called together.

PAUL FLIDA.

[_To one of the men._] Go forth and bid the hornblower wind his horn
in all the streets.

[_The man goes._

KING SKULE.

[_Addresses the people from the window._] Hold fast to me, all my
sorrowing people. There shall come peace and light over the land
once more, as in Håkon’s first glad days, when the fields yielded
two harvests every summer. Hold fast to me; believe in me and trust
to me; ’tis that I need so unspeakably. I will watch over you and
fight for you; I will bleed and die for you, if need be; but fail me
not, and doubt not——! [_Loud cries, as though of terror, are heard
among the people._] What is that?

A WILD VOICE.

Atone! Atone!

BÅRD BRATTE.

[_Looks out._] ’Tis a priest possessed of the devil!

PAUL FLIDA.

He is tearing his cowl to shreds and scourging himself with a whip.

THE VOICE.

Atone, atone! The last day is come.

MANY VOICES.

Flee, flee! Woe upon Nidaros. A deed of sin!

KING SKULE.

What has befallen?

BÅRD BRATTE.

All flee, all shrink away as though a wild beast were in their
midst.

KING SKULE.

Yes, all flee. [_With a cry of joy._] Ha! it matters not. We are
saved! See, see—King Olaf’s shrine stands in the middle of the
courtyard.

PAUL FLIDA.

King Olaf’s shrine!

BÅRD BRATTE.

Ay, by Heaven—there it stands!

KING SKULE.

The monks are true to me; so good a deed have they never done
before!

PAUL FLIDA.

Hark! the call to the folkmote!

KING SKULE.

Now shall lawful homage be done to me.

PETER.

[_Enters from the right._] Take on you the kingly mantle; now stands
the shrine out yonder.

KING SKULE.

Then have you saved the kingdom for me and for yourself; and tenfold
will we thank the pious monks for yielding.

PETER.

The monks, father—you have nought to thank them for.

KING SKULE

’Twas not they that helped you?

PETER.

They laid the ban of the Church on whoever should dare to touch the
holy thing.

KING SKULE.

The Archbishop then! At last he gives way.

PETER.

The Archbishop hurled forth direr curses than the monks.

KING SKULE.

Ah, then I see that I still have trusty men. You here, who should
have been the first to serve me, stood terrified and shrank back—but
down in the crowd have I friends who for my sake fear not to take so
great a sin upon their souls.

PETER.

You have not one trusty man who dared to take the sin upon him.

KING SKULE.

Almighty God! has then a miracle come to pass? Who bore out the holy
thing?

PETER.

I, my father!

KING SKULE.

[_With a shriek._] You!

THE MEN.

[_Shrink back appalled._] Church-robber!

[PAUL FLIDA, BÅRD BRATTE, _and one or two others go out_.

PETER.

The deed had to be done. No man’s faith is sure ere homage be
lawfully done to you. I begged, I besought the monks; it availed
not. Then I broke open the church door; none dared to follow me. I
sprang up to the high altar, gripped the handle, and pressed hard
with my knees; ’twas as though an unseen power gave me more than
human strength. The shrine came loose, I dragged it after me down
the nave, while the ban moaned like a storm high up under the
vaultings. I dragged it out of the church; all fled and shrank from
me. When I came to the middle of the courtyard the handle broke;
here it is!

[_Holds it aloft._

KING SKULE.

[_Quietly, appalled._] Church-robber.

PETER.

For your sake; for the sake of your great king’s-thought! You will
wipe out the sin; all that is evil you will wipe away. Light and
peace will follow you; a glorious day will dawn over the land—what
matter, then, if there went a storm-night before it?

KING SKULE.

There was as ’twere a halo round your head when your mother brought
you to me; now I see in its stead the lightnings of the ban.

PETER.

Father, father, think not of me; be not afraid for my woe or weal.
Is it not your will I have fulfilled?—how can it be accounted to me
for a crime?

KING SKULE.

I hungered for your faith in me, and your faith has turned to sin.

PETER.

[_Wildly._] For your sake, for your sake! Therefore God dare not
deny to blot it out!

KING SKULE.

“Pure and blameless,” I swore to Ingeborg—and he scoffs at heaven!

PAUL FLIDA.

[_Entering._] All is in uproar! The impious deed has struck terror
to your men; they flee into the churches.

KING SKULE.

They shall out; they must out!

BÅRD BRATTE.

[_Entering._] The townsfolk have risen against you; they are slaying
the Vårbælgs wherever they find them, on the streets or in the
houses!

A MAN-AT-ARMS.

[_Entering._] The Birchlegs are sailing up the river!

KING SKULE.

Summon all my men together! None must fail me here!

PAUL FLIDA.

They will not come; they are benumbed with dread.

KING SKULE.

[_Despairingly._] But I _cannot_ fall now! My son must not die with
a deadly sin upon his soul!

PETER.

Think not of me; ’tis you alone that are to be thought of. Let us
make for Indherred; there all men are true to you!

KING SKULE.

Ay, to flight! Follow me, whoso would save his life!

BÅRD BRATTE.

What way?

KING SKULE.

Over the bridge!

PAUL FLIDA.

All bridges are broken down, my lord.

KING SKULE.

Broken down——! All the bridges broken, say you?

PAUL FLIDA.

Had you broken them down at Oslo, you might have let them stand at
Nidaros.

KING SKULE.

We must over the river none the less;—we have our lives and our
souls to save! To flight! To flight!

[_He and_ PETER _rush out to the left_.

BÅRD BRATTE.

Ay, better so than to fall at the hands of the townfolk and the
Birchlegs.

PAUL FLIDA.

In God’s name, then, to flight!

[_All follow_ SKULE.

_The room stands empty for a short time; a distant and confused
noise is heard from the streets; then a troop of armed
townsmen rushes in by the door on the right._

A TOWNSMAN.

Here! He must be here!

ANOTHER.

Slay him!

MANY.

Slay the church-robber too!

A SINGLE ONE.

Go carefully! They may yet bite!

THE FIRST TOWNSMAN.

No need; the Birchlegs are already coming up the street.

A TOWNSMAN.

[_Entering._] Too late—King Skule has fled!

MANY.

Whither? Whither?

THE NEW-COMER.

Into one of the churches, methinks; they are full of the Vargbælgs.

THE FIRST TOWNSMAN.

Then let us seek for him; great thanks and reward will King Håkon
give to the man who slays Skule.

ANOTHER.

Here come the Birchlegs.

A THIRD.

King Håkon himself!

MANY OF THE CROWD.

[_Shout._] Hail to King Håkon Håkonsson!

HÅKON.

[_Enters from the right, followed by_ GREGORIUS JONSSON, DAGFINN THE
PEASANT, _and many others_.] Ay, now are you humble, you Trönders;
you have stood against me long enough.

THE FIRST TOWNSMAN.

[_Kneeling._] Mercy, my lord! Skule Bårdsson bore so hardly on us!

ANOTHER.

[_Also kneeling._] He compelled us, else had we never followed him.

THE FIRST.

He seized our goods and forced us to fight for his unrighteous
cause.

THE SECOND.

Alas, noble lord, he has been a scourge to his friends no less than
to his foes.

MANY VOICES.

Ay, ay,—Skule Bårdsson has been a scourge to the whole land.

DAGFINN.

That, at least, is true enough.

HÅKON.

Good; with you townsfolk I will speak later; ’tis my purpose to
punish sternly all transgressions; but first there are other things
to be thought of. Knows any man where Skule Bårdsson is?

MANY.

In one of the churches, lord!

HÅKON.

Know you that for certain?

THE TOWNSMEN.

Ay, there are all the Vargbælgs.

HÅKON.

[_Softly to_ DAGFINN.] He must be found; set a watch on all the
churches in the town.

DAGFINN.

And when he is found, he must straightway be slain.

HÅKON.

[_Softly._] Slain? Dagfinn, Dagfinn, how heavy a deed it seems!

DAGFINN.

My lord, you swore it solemnly at Oslo.

HÅKON.

And all men in the land will call for his death. [_Turns to_
GREGORIUS JONSSON _and says, unheard by the others_.] Go; you were
once his friend; seek him out and prevail on him to fly the land.

GREGORIUS.

[_Joyfully._] You will suffer it, my lord!

HÅKON.

For the sake of my gentle, well-beloved wife.

GREGORIUS JONSSON.

But if he should _not_ flee? If he will not or cannot?

HÅKON.

Then, in God’s name, I may not spare him; then must my kingly word
be fulfilled. Go!

GREGORIUS JONSSON

I go, and shall do my utmost. Heaven grant I may succeed.

[_Goes out by the right._

HÅKON.

You, Dagfinn, go with trusty men down to the King’s ship; you shall
conduct the Queen and her child up to Elgesæter[45] convent.

DAGFINN.

My lord, think you she will be safe there?

HÅKON.

Nowhere safer. The Vargbælgs have shut themselves up in the
churches, and she has besought to be sent thither; her mother is at
Elgesæter.

DAGFINN.

Ay, ay, that I know.

HÅKON.

Greet the Queen most lovingly from me; and greet Lady Ragnhild also.
You may tell them that so soon as the Vargbælgs shall have made
submission and been taken to grace, all the bells in Nidaros shall
be rung, for a sign that there has come peace in the land once
more.—You townsfolk shall reckon with me to-morrow, and punishment
shall be meted to each according to his misdeeds.

[_Goes with his men._

THE FIRST TOWNSMAN.

Woe upon us to-morrow!

THE SECOND.

We have a long reckoning to pay.

THE FIRST.

We, who have stood against Håkon so long—who bore our part in
acclaiming Skule when he took the kingly title.

THE SECOND.

Who gave Skule both ships and war-tribute—who bought all the goods
he seized from Håkon’s thanes.

THE FIRST.

Ay, woe upon us to-morrow!

A TOWNSMAN.

[_Rushes in from the left._] Where is Håkon? Where is the King?

THE FIRST.

What would you with him?

THE NEW-COMER

Bring him great and weighty tidings.

MANY.

What tidings?

THE NEW-COMER.

I tell them to no other than the King himself.

MANY.

Ay, tell us, tell us!

THE NEW-COMER.

Skule Bårdsson is fleeing up toward Elgesæter.

THE FIRST.

It cannot be! He is in one of the churches.

THE NEW-COMER.

No, no; he and his son crossed over the river in a skiff.

THE FIRST.

Ha, then we can save us from Håkon’s wrath!

THE SECOND.

Ay, let us forthwith give him to know where Skule is.

THE FIRST.

Nay, better than that; we will say nought, but ourselves go up to
Elgesæter and slay Skule.

THE SECOND.

Ay, ay—that will we!

A THIRD.

But did not many Vargbælgs go with him over the river?

THE NEW-COMER.

No, there were but few men in the boat.

THE FIRST.

We will arm us as best we can. Oh, now are we townsfolk safe enough!
Let no man know what we are about; we are enough for the task!—And
now, away to Elgesæter.

ALL.

[_Softly._] Ay, away to Elgesæter!

[_They go out to the left, rapidly but cautiously._

--------------

_A fir-wood on the hills above Nidaros. It is moonlight, but the
night is misty, so that the background is seen indistinctly,
and sometimes scarcely at all. Tree-stumps and great boulders
lie round about._ KING SKULE, PETER, PAUL FLIDA, BÅRD BRATTE,
_and other_ VÅRBÆLGS _come through the wood from the left_.

PETER.

Come hither and rest you, my father.

KING SKULE.

Ay, let me rest, rest.

[_Sinks down beside a stone._

PETER.

How goes it with you?

KING SKULE.

I am hungry! I am sick, sick! I see dead men’s shadows!

PETER.

[_Springing up._] Help here—bread for the King!

BÅRD BRATTE.

Here is every man king; for life is at stake. Stand up, Skule
Bårdsson, if you be king! Lie not there to rule the land.

PETER.

If you scoff at my father, I will kill you.

BÅRD BRATTE.

I shall be killed whatever betides; for me King Håkon will have no
grace; for I was his thane, and deserted him for Skule’s sake. Think
of somewhat that may save us. No deed so desperate but I will risk
it now.

A VÅRBÆLG.

Could we but get over to the convent at Holm?

PAUL FLIDA.

Better to Elgesæter.

BÅRD BRATTE.

[_With a sudden outburst._] Best of all to go down to Håkon’s ship
and bear away the King-child.

PAUL FLIDA.

Are you distraught?

BÅRD BRATTE.

No, no; ’tis our one hope, and easy enough to do. The Birchlegs are
ransacking every house, and keeping watch on all the churches; they
think none of us can have taken flight, since all the bridges are
broken. There can be but few men on board the ships; when once we
have his heir in our power, Håkon must grant us peace, else will his
child die with us. Who will go with me to save our lives?

PAUL FLIDA.

Not I, if they are to be saved in such wise.

SEVERAL.

Not I! Not I!

PETER.

Ha, but if it were to save my father——!

BÅRD BRATTE.

If you will go with me, come. First I go down to Hladehammer; there
lies the troop we met at the bottom of the hill; they are the
wildest dare-devils of all the Vargbælgs; they had swum the river,
knowing that they would find no grace in the churches. They are the
lads for a raid on the King’s ship! Which of you will follow me?

SOME.

I! I!

PETER.

Mayhap I too; but first must I see my father into safe shelter.

BÅRD BRATTE.

Ere daybreak will we make speed up the river. Come, here goes a
short way downwards towards Hlade.

[_He and some others go out to the right._

PETER.

[_To_ PAUL FLIDA.] Let not my father know aught of this; he is
soul-sick to-night, we must act for him. There is safety in Bård
Bratte’s deed; ere daybreak shall the King-child be in our hands.

PAUL FLIDA.

To be slain, most like. See you not that it is a sin——

PETER.

Nay, it cannot be a sin; for my father doomed the child in Oslo.
Sooner or later it must die, for it blocks my father’s path;—my
father has a great king’s-thought to carry through; it matters not
who or how many fall for its sake.

PAUL FLIDA.

Hapless for you was the day you came to know that you were King
Skule’s son. [_Listening._] Hist!—cast you flat to the ground; there
come people this way.

[_All throw themselves down behind stones and stumps; a
troop of people, some riding, some on foot, can be seen
indistinctly through the mist and between the trees;
they come from the left, and pass on to the right._

PETER.

’Tis the Queen!

PAUL FLIDA.

Ay; she is talking with Dagfinn the Peasant. Hush!

PETER.

They are making for Elgesæter. The King-child is with them!

PAUL FLIDA.

And the Queen’s ladies.

PETER.

But only four men! Up, up, King Skule—now is your kingdom saved!

KING SKULE.

My kingdom? ’Tis dark, my kingdom—like the angel’s that rose against
God.

_A party of_ MONKS _comes from the right_.

A MONK.

Who speaks there? Is it King Skule’s men.

PAUL FLIDA.

King Skule himself.

THE MONK.

[_To_ SKULE.] God be praised that we met you, dear lord! Some
townsmen gave us to know that you had taken the upward path, and we
are no less unsafe than you in Nidaros.

PETER.

You have deserved death, you who denied to give forth St. Olaf’s
shrine.

THE MONK.

The Archbishop forbade it; but none the less we would fain serve
King Skule; we have ever held to him. See, we have brought with us
robes of our Order for you and your men; put them on, and then can
you easily make your way into one convent or another, and can seek
to gain grace of Håkon.

KING SKULE.

Ay, let me put on the robe; my son and I must stand on consecrated
ground. I will to Elgesæter.

PETER.

[_Softly, to_ PAUL FLIDA.] See that my father comes safely thither.

PAUL FLIDA.

Bethink you that there are Birchlegs at Elgesæter.

PETER.

But four men; you may easily deal with them, and once inside the
convent walls they will not dare to touch you. I will seek Bård
Bratte.

PAUL FLIDA.

Nay, do not so!

PETER.

Not on the King’s ship, but at Elgesæter, must the outlaws save the
kingdom for my father.

[_Goes quickly out to the right._

A VÅRBÆLG.

[_Whispering to another._] Go you to Elgesæter with Skule?

THE OTHER.

Hist; no; the Birchlegs are there!

THE FIRST.

Neither will I go; but say nought to the rest.

THE MONK.

And now away, two and two,—one spearman and one monk.

ANOTHER MONK.

[_Sitting on a stump behind the rest._] I will guide King Skule.

KING SKULE.

Know you the way?

THE MONK.

The broad way.

THE FIRST MONK.

Haste you; let us take different paths, and meet outside the convent
gate.

[_They go out among the trees, to the right; the fog lifts
and the comet shows itself red and glowing, through the
hazy air._

KING SKULE.

Peter, my son——! [_Starts backwards._] Ha, there is the flaming
sword in heaven!

THE MONK.

[_Sitting behind him on the stump._] And here am I!

KING SKULE.

Who are you?

THE MONK.

An old acquaintance.

KING SKULE.

Paler man have I never seen.

THE MONK.

But you know me not?

KING SKULE

’Tis you that are to lead me to Elgesæter.

THE MONK.

’Tis I that will lead you to the throne.

KING SKULE.

Can you do that?

THE MONK.

I can, if you but will it.

KING SKULE.

And by what means?

THE MONK.

By the means I have used before;—I will take you up into a high
mountain and show you all the glory of the world.

KING SKULE.

All the glory of the world have I seen ere now, in dreams of
temptation.

THE MONK.

’Twas I that gave you those dreams.

KING SKULE.

Who are you?

THE MONK.

An envoy from the oldest Pretender in the world.

KING SKULE.

From the oldest Pretender in the world?

THE MONK.

From the first Earl, who rose against the greatest kingdom, and
himself founded a kingdom that shall endure beyond doomsday.

KING SKULE.

[_Shrieks._] Bishop Nicholas!

THE MONK.

[_Rising._] Do you know me now? We were friends of yore,
and ’tis you that have brought me back;
once the self-same galley our fortunes bore,
and we sailed on the self-same tack.
At our parting I quailed, in the gloom and the blast;
for a hawk in his talons had gripped my soul fast;
I besought them to chant and to ply the bell,
and I bought me masses and prayers as well,—
they read fourteen, though I’d paid but for seven;
yet they brought me no nearer the gates of heaven.

KING SKULE.

And you come from down yonder——?

THE MONK.

Yes, from the kingdom down yonder I’m faring;
the kingdom men always so much miscall.
I vow ’tis in nowise so bad after all,
and the heat, to my thinking, is never past bearing.

KING SKULE.

And it seems you have learnt skald-craft, old Bagler-chieftain!

THE MONK.

Not only skald-craft, but store of Latinity!
Once my Latin was not over strong, you know;
now few can beat it for ease and flow.
To take any station in yonder vicinity,
ay, even to pass at the gate, for credential
a knowledge of Latin is well-nigh essential.
You can’t but make progress with so many able
and learned companions each day at the table,—
full fifty ex-popes by my side carouse, and
five hundred cardinals, skalds seven thousand.

KING SKULE.

Greet your Master and give him my thanks for his friendship. Tell
him he is the only king who sends help to Skule the First of Norway.

THE MONK.

Hear now, King Skule, what brings me to you—
my Master’s henchmen down there are legion,
and each up here is allotted a region;
they gave Norway to me, as the place I best knew.
Håkon Håkonsson serves not my Master’s will;
we hate him, for he is our foeman still—
so he must fall, leaving you at the helm,
the sole possessor of crown and realm.

KING SKULE.

Ay, give me the crown! When once I have that, I will rule so as to
buy myself free again.

THE MONK.

Ay, that we can always talk of later——
we must seize the time if we’d win the fight.
King Håkon’s child sleeps at Elgesæter;
could you once wrap him in the web of night,
then like storm-swept motes will your foes fly routed,
then your victory’s sure and your kingship undoubted!

KING SKULE.

Think you so surely that the victory were mine?

THE MONK.

All men in Norway are sighing for rest;
the king with an heir[46] is the king they love best—
a son to succeed to the throne without wrangling;
for the people are tired of this hundred-years’ jangling.
Rouse you, King Skule! one great endeavour!
the foe must perish to-night or never!
See, to the northward how light it has grown,
see how the fog lifts o’er fiord and o’er valley—
there gather noiselessly galley on galley—
hark! men are marching with rumble and drone!
One word of promise, and all is your own—
hundreds of glittering sails on the water,
thousands of warriors hurtling to slaughter.

KING SKULE.

What word would you have?

THE MONK.

For raising you highest, my one condition
is just that you follow your heart’s ambition;
all Norway is yours, to the kingship I’ll speed you,
if only you vow that your son shall succeed you!

KING SKULE.

[_Raising his hand as if for an oath._] My son shall—-[_Stops
suddenly, and breaks forth in terror._] The church-robber! All the
might to him! Ha! now I understand;—you seek for his soul’s
perdition! Get thee behind me, get thee behind me! [_Stretches out
his arms to heaven._] Oh have mercy on me, thou to whom I now call
for help in my sorest need!

[_He falls prone to the earth._

THE MONK.

Accursëd! He’s slipped through my fingers at last—
and I thought of a surety I held him so fast!
But the Light, it seems, had a trick in store
that I knew not of—and the game is o’er.
Well, well; what matters a little delay?
_Perpetuum mobile_’s well under way;
my might is assured through the years and the ages,
the haters of light shall be still in my wages;
in Norway my empire for ever is founded,
though it be to my subjects a riddle unsounded.

[_Coming forward._

While to their life-work Norsemen set out
will-lessly wavering, daunted with doubt,
while hearts are shrunken, minds helplessly shivering,
weak as a willow-wand wind-swept and quivering,—
while about one thing alone they’re united,
namely, that greatness be stoned and despited,—
when they seek honour in fleeing and falling
under the banner of baseness unfurled,—
then Bishop Nicholas ’tends to his calling,
the Bagler-Bishop’s at work in the world!

[_He disappears in the fog among the trees._

KING SKULE.

[_After a short pause, half rises and looks around._] Where is he,
my black comrade? [_Springs up._] My guide, my guide, where are you?
Gone!— No matter; now I myself know the way, both to Elgesæter and
beyond.

[_Goes out to the right._

--------------

_The courtyard of Elgesæter Convent. To the left lies the chapel,
with an entrance from the courtyard; the windows are lighted
up. Along the opposite side of the space stretch some lower
buildings; in the back, the convent wall with a strong gate,
which is locked. It is a clear moonlight night. Three Birchleg
Chiefs stand by the gate_; MARGRETE, LADY RAGNHILD, _and_
DAGFINN THE PEASANT _come out from the chapel_.

LADY RAGNHILD.

[_Half to herself._] King Skule had to flee into the church, you
say! He, he, a fugitive! begging at the altar for peace—begging for
his life mayhap—oh no, no, that could never be; but God will punish
you who dared to let it come to this!

MARGRETE.

My dear, dear mother, curb yourself; you know not what you say; ’tis
your grief that speaks.

LADY RAGNHILD.

Hear me, ye Birchlegs! ’Tis Håkon Håkonsson that should lie before
the altar, and beseech King Skule for life and peace.

A BIRCHLEG.

It ill beseems loyal men to listen to such words.

MARGRETE.

Bow your heads before a wife’s sorrow!

LADY RAGNHILD.

King Skule doomed! Look to yourselves, look to yourselves all of
you, when he regains his power!

DAGFINN.

That will never be, Lady Ragnhild.

MARGRETE.

Hush, hush!

LADY RAGNHILD.

Think you Håkon Håkonsson dare let his doom be fulfilled if the King
should fall into his hands?

DAGFINN.

King Håkon himself best knows whether a king’s oath can be broken.

LADY RAGNHILD.

[_To_ MARGRETE.] And this man of blood have you followed in faith
and love! Are you your father’s child? May the wrath of heaven——! Go
from me, go from me!

MARGRETE.

Blessed be your lips, although now they curse me.

LADY RAGNHILD.

I must down to Nidaros and into the church to find King Skule. He
sent me from him when he sat victorious on the throne; then, truly,
he had no need of me—now will he not be wroth if I come to him. Open
the gate for me; let me go to Nidaros!

MARGRETE.

My mother, for God’s pity’s sake——!

[_A loud knocking at the convent gate._

DAGFINN.

Who knocks?

KING SKULE.

[_Without._] A king.

DAGFINN.

Skule Bårdsson.

LADY RAGNHILD.

King Skule.

MARGRETE.

My father!

KING SKULE.

Open, open!

DAGFINN.

We open not here to outlaws.

KING SKULE.

’Tis a king who knocks, I tell you; a king who has no roof over his
head; a king whose life is forfeit if he reach not consecrated
ground.

MARGRETE.

Dagfinn, Dagfinn, ’tis my father!

DAGFINN.

[_Goes to the gate and opens a small shutter._] Come you with many
men to the convent?

KING SKULE.

With all the men that were true to me in my need.

DAGFINN.

And how many be they?

KING SKULE.

Fewer than one.

MARGRETE.

He is alone, Dagfinn.

LADY RAGNHILD.

Heaven’s wrath fall upon you if you deny him sanctuary!

DAGFINN.

In God’s name, then!

[_He opens the gate; the Birchlegs respectfully uncover
their heads._ KING SKULE _enters the courtyard_.

MARGRETE.

[_Throwing herself on his neck._] My father! My dear, unhappy
father!

LADY RAGNHILD.

[_Interposing wildly between him and the Birchlegs._] Ye who feign
reverence for him, ye will betray him, like Judas. Dare not to come
near him! Ye shall not lay a finger on him while I live!

DAGFINN.

Here he is safe, for he is on holy ground.

MARGRETE.

And not one of all your men had the heart to follow you this night!

KING SKULE.

Both monks and spearmen brought me on the way; but they slipped from
me one by one, for they knew there were Birchlegs at Elgesæter. Paul
Flida was the last to leave me; he came with me to the convent gate;
there he gave me his last hand-grip, in memory of the time when
there were Vargbælgs in Norway.

DAGFINN.

[_To the Birchlegs._] Get you in, chieftains, and set you as guards
about the King-child; I must to Nidaros to acquaint the King that
Skule Bårdsson is at Elgesæter; in so weighty a matter ’tis for him
to act.

MARGRETE.

Oh, Dagfinn, Dagfinn, have you the heart for that?

DAGFINN.

Else should I ill serve King and land. [_To the men._] Lock the
gates after me, watch over the child, and open to none until the
King be come. [_Softly_ to SKULE.] Farewell, Skule Bårdsson—and God
grant you a blessed end.

[_Goes out by the gate; the Birchlegs close it after him,
and go into the chapel._

LADY RAGNHILD.

Ay, let Håkon come; I will not loose you; I will hold you straitly
and tenderly in my arms, as I never held you before.

MARGRETE.

Oh, how pale you are—and aged; you are cold.

KING SKULE.

I am not cold—but I am weary, weary.

MARGRETE.

Come in then, and rest you——

KING SKULE.

Yes, yes; ’twill soon be time to rest.

SIGRID.

[_From the chapel._] You come at last, my brother!

KING SKULE.

Sigrid! you here?

SIGRID.

I promised that we should meet when you were fain of me in your
sorest need.

KING SKULE.

Where is your child, Margrete?

MARGRETE.

He sleeps, in the sacristy.

KING SKULE.

Then is our whole house gathered at Elgesæter to-night.

SIGRID.

Ay, gathered after straying long and far.

KING SKULE.

Håkon Håkonsson alone is wanting.

MARGRETE AND LADY RAGNHILD.

[_Cling about him, in an outburst of sorrow._] My father!—My
husband!

KING SKULE.

[_Looking at them, much moved._] Have you loved me so deeply, you
two? I sought after happiness abroad, and heeded not the home
wherein I might have found it. I pursued after love through sin and
guilt, little dreaming that ’twas mine already, in right of God’s
law and man’s.—And you, Ragnhild, my wife, you, against whom I have
sinned so deeply, you take me to your warm, soft heart in the hour
of my sorest need; you can tremble and be afraid for the life of the
man who has never cast a ray of sunshine upon your path.

LADY RAGNHILD.

Have you sinned? Oh, Skule, speak not so; think you I should ever
dare accuse you! From the first I was too mean a mate for you, my
noble husband; there can rest no guilt on any deed of yours.

KING SKULE.

Have you believed in me so surely, Ragnhild?

LADY RAGNHILD.

From the first day I saw you.

KING SKULE.

[_With animation._] When Håkon comes, I will beg grace of him! You
gentle, loving women,—oh, but it is fair to live!

SIGRID.

[_With an expression of terror._] Skule, my brother! Woe to you if
you stray from the path this night.

[_A loud noise without; immediately afterwards, a knocking
at the gate._

MARGRETE.

Hark, hark! Who comes in such haste?

LADY RAGNHILD.

Who knocks at the gate?

VOICES.

[_Without._] Townsfolk from Nidaros! Open! We know that Skule
Bårdsson is within!

KING SKULE.

Ay, he is within; what would ye with him?

NOISY VOICES.

[_Without._] Come out, come out! Death to the evil man!

MARGRETE.

You townsfolk dare to threaten that?

A SINGLE VOICE.

King Håkon doomed him at Oslo.

ANOTHER.

’Tis every man’s duty to slay him.

MARGRETE.

I am the Queen; I command you to depart!

A VOICE.

’Tis Skule Bårdsson’s daughter, and not the Queen, that speaks thus.

ANOTHER.

You have no power over life and death; the King has doomed him!

LADY RAGNHILD.

Into the church, Skule! For God’s mercy’s sake, let not the
bloodthirsty caitiffs approach you!

KING SKULE.

Ay, into the church; I would not fall at the hands of such as these.
My wife, my daughter; meseems I have found peace and light; oh, I
cannot lose them again so soon!

[_Moves towards the chapel._

PETER.

[_Without, on the right._] My father, my king. Now will you soon
have the victory!

KING SKULE.

[_With a shriek._] He! He!

[_Sinks down upon the church steps._

LADY RAGNHILD.

Who is it?

A TOWNSMAN.

[_Without._] See, see! the church-robber climbs over the convent
roof!

OTHERS.

Stone him! Stone him!

PETER.

[_Appears on a roof to the right, and jumps down into the yard._]
Well met again, my father!

KING SKULE.

[_Looks at him aghast._] You—I had forgotten you——! Whence come you?

PETER.

[_Wildly._] Where is the King-child?

MARGRETE.

The King-child!

KING SKULE.

[_Starts up._] Whence come you, I ask?

PETER.

From Hladehammer; I have given Bård Bratte and the Vargbælgs to know
that the King-child lies at Elgesæter to-night.

MARGRETE.

O God!

KING SKULE.

You have done that! And now——?

PETER.

He is gathering together his men, and they are hasting up to the
convent.—Where is the King-child, woman?

MARGRETE.

[_Who has placed herself before the church door._] He sleeps in the
sacristy!

PETER.

’Twere the same if he slept on the altar! I have dragged out St.
Olaf’s shrine—I fear not to drag out the King-child as well.

LADY RAGNHILD.

[_Calls to_ SKULE.] And he it is you have loved so deeply!

MARGRETE.

Father, father! How could you forget us all for his sake?

KING SKULE.

He was pure as a lamb of God when the penitent woman gave him to
me;—’tis his faith in me has made him what he now is.

PETER.

[_Without heeding him._] The child must out! Slay it, slay it in the
Queen’s arms,—that was King Skule’s word in Oslo!

MARGRETE.

Oh shame, oh shame!

PETER.

A saint might do it unsinning, at my father’s command! My father is
King; for the great king’s-thought is his!

TOWNSMEN.

[_Knocking at the gate._] Open! Come out, you and the church-robber,
else will we burn the convent down!

KING SKULE.

[_As if seized by a strong resolution._] The great king’s-thought!
’Tis _that_ has poisoned your young loving soul! Pure and blameless
I was to give you back; ’tis faith in me that drives you thus wildly
from crime to crime, from deadly sin to deadly sin! Oh, but I can
save you yet: I can save us all! [_Calls toward the background._]
Wait, wait, ye townsmen without there: I come!

MARGRETE.

[_Seizing his hand in terror._] My father! what would you do?

LADY RAGNHILD.

[_Clinging to him with a shriek._] Skule!

SIGRID.

[_Tears them away from him, and calls with wild, radiant joy._]
Loose him, loose him, women;—now his thought puts forth wings!

KING SKULE.

[_Firmly and forcibly, to_ PETER.] You saw in me the heaven-chosen
one,—him who should do the great king’s-work in the land. Look at me
better, misguided boy! The rags of kingship I have decked myself
withal, they were borrowed and stolen—now I put them off me, one by
one.

PETER.

[_In dread._] My great, my noble father, speak not thus!

KING SKULE.

The king’s-thought is Håkon’s, not mine; to him alone has the Lord
granted the power that can act it out. You have believed in a lie;
turn from me, and save your soul.

PETER.

[_In a broken voice._] The king’s-thought is Håkon’s!

KING SKULE.

I yearned to be the greatest in the land. My God! my God! behold, I
abase myself before thee, and stand as the least of all men.

PETER.

Take me from the earth, O Lord! Punish me for all my sin; but take
me from the earth; for here am I homeless now!

[_Sinks down upon the church steps._

KING SKULE.

I had a friend who bled for me at Oslo. He said: A man can die for
another’s life-work; but if he is to go on living, he must live for
his own.—I have no life-work to live for, neither can I live for
Håkon’s,—but I can die for it.

MARGRETE.

Nay, nay, that shall you never do!

KING SKULE.

[_Takes her hand, and looks at her tenderly._] Do you love your
husband, Margrete?

MARGRETE.

Better than the whole world.

KING SKULE.

You could endure that he should doom me; but could you also endure
that he should let the doom be fulfilled?

MARGRETE.

Lord of heaven, give me strength!

KING SKULE.

Could you, Margrete?

MARGRETE.

[_Softly and shuddering._] No, no—we should have to part,—I could
never see him more!

KING SKULE.

You would darken the fairest light of his life and of yours;—be at
peace, Margrete,—it shall not be needful.

LADY RAGNHILD.

Flee from the land, Skule; I will follow you whithersoever you will.

KING SKULE.

[_Shaking his head._] With a mocking shade between us?—To-night have
I found you for the first time; there must fall no shade between me
and you, my silent, faithful wife;—therefore must we not seek to
unite our lives on this earth.

SIGRID.

My kingly brother! I see you need me not;—I see you know what path
to take.

KING SKULE.

There are men born to live, and men born to die. My desire was ever
thitherward where God’s finger pointed not the way for me; therefore
I never saw my path clear, till now. My peaceful home-life have I
wrecked; I can never win it back again. My sins against Håkon I can
atone by freeing him from a kingly duty which must have parted him
from his dearest treasure. The townsfolk stand without; I will not
wait for King Håkon! The Vargbælgs are near; so long as I live they
will not swerve from their purpose; if they find me here, I cannot
save your child, Margrete.—See, look upwards! See how it wanes and
pales, the flaming sword that has hung over my head! Yes, yes,—God
has spoken and I have understood him, and his wrath is appeased. Not
in the sanctuary of Elgesæter will I cast me down and beg for grace
of an earthly king;—I must into the mighty church roofed with the
vault of stars and ’tis the King of Kings I must implore for grace
and mercy over all my life-work.

SIGRID.

Withstand him not! Withstand not the call of God! The day dawns; it
dawns in Norway and it dawns in his restless soul! Have not we
trembling women cowered long enough in our secret rooms,
terror-stricken and hidden in the darkest corners, listening to all
the horror that was doing without, listening to the bloody pageant
that stalked over the land from end to end! Have we not lain pale
and stone-like in the churches, not daring to look forth, even as
Christ’s disciples lay in Jerusalem on the Great Good Friday when
the Lord was led by to Golgotha! Use thy wings, and woe to them who
would bind thee now!

LADY RAGNHILD.

Fare forth in peace, my husband; fare thither, where no mocking
shade shall stand between us, when we meet.

[_Hastens into the chapel._

MARGRETE.

My father, farewell, farewell,—a thousand times farewell!

[_Follows_ LADY RAGNHILD.

SIGRID.

[_Opens the church door and calls in._] To your knees, all ye women!
Assemble yourselves in prayer; send up a message in song to the
Lord, and tell him that now Skule Bårdsson comes penitent home from
his rebellious race on earth.

KING SKULE.

Sigrid, my faithful sister, greet King Håkon from me; tell him that
even in my last hour I know not whether he be king-born; but this I
know of a surety: he it is whom God has chosen.

SIGRID.

I will bear him your greeting.

KING SKULE.

And yet another greeting must you bear. There dwells a penitent
woman in the north, in Halogaland; tell her that her son has gone
before; he went with me when there was great danger for his soul.

SIGRID.

That will I.

KING SKULE.

Tell her, it was not with the heart he sinned; pure and blameless
shall she surely meet him again.

SIGRID.

That will I. [_Points towards the background._] Hark! they are
breaking the lock!

KING SKULE.

[_Points towards the chapel._] Hark! they are singing loud to God of
salvation and peace!

SIGRID.

Hark again! All the bells in Nidaros are ringing——!

KING SKULE.

[_Smiles mournfully._] They are ringing a king to his grave.

SIGRID.

Nay, nay, they ring for your true crowning! Farewell, my brother,
let the purple robe of blood flow wide over your shoulders; under it
may all sin be hidden! Go forth, go into the great church and take
the crown of life.

[_Hastens into the chapel._

[_Chanting and bell-ringing continue during what follows._

VOICES.

[_Outside the gate._] The lock has burst! Force us not to break the
peace of the church!

KING SKULE.

I come.

THE TOWNSMEN.

And the church-robber must come too!

KING SKULE.

Ay, the church-robber shall come too. [_Goes over to_ PETER.] My
son, are you ready?

PETER.

Ay, father, I am ready.

KING SKULE.

[_Looks upwards._] O God, I am a poor man, I have but my life to
give; but take that, and keep watch over Håkon’s great
king’s-thought.—See now, give me your hand.

PETER.

Here is my hand, father.

KING SKULE.

And fear not for that which is now to come.

PETER.

Nay, father, I fear not, when I go with you.

KING SKULE.

A safer way have we two never trodden together. [_He opens the gate;
the_ TOWNSMEN _stand without with upraised weapons_.] Here are we;
we come of our own free will;—but strike him not in the face.

[_They pass out, hand in hand; the gate glides to._

A VOICE.

Aim not, spare not;—strike them where ye can.

KING SKULE’S VOICE.

’Tis base to deal thus with chieftains.

[_A short noise of weapons; then a heavy fall is heard; all
is still for a moment._

A VOICE.

They are dead, both of them!

[_The_ KING’S _horn sounds_.

ANOTHER VOICE.

There comes King Håkon with all his guard!

THE CROWD.

Hail Håkon Håkonsson; now have you no longer any foemen.

GREGORIUS JONSSON.

[_Stops a little before the corpses._] So I have come too late!

[_Enters the convent yard._

DAGFINN.

It had been ill for Norway had you come sooner. [_Calls out._] In
here, King Håkon!

HÅKON.

[_Stopping._] The body lies in my way!

DAGFINN.

If Håkon Håkonsson would go forward, he must pass over Skule
Bårdsson’s body!

HÅKON.

In God’s name then!

[_Steps over the corpse and comes in._

DAGFINN.

At last you can set about your king’s-work with free hands. In there
are those you _love_; in Nidaros they are ringing in peace in the
_land_; and yonder he lies who was your direst foe.

HÅKON.

All men misjudged him, reading not his secret.

DAGFINN.

His secret?

HÅKON.

[_Seizes him by the arm, and says softly._] Skule Bårdsson was God’s
step-child on earth; that was the secret.

[_The song of the women is heard more loudly from the
chapel; all the bells are still ringing in Nidaros._

THE END.

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Footnote 21:

Pronounce _Sverrë_.

Footnote 22:

Pronounce Inghë.

Footnote 23:

The old name for Trondheim.

Footnote 24: